


Three Meetings

by sevenofspade



Category: Ancient History RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 14:57:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15003308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenofspade/pseuds/sevenofspade
Summary: They met in the temple beneath the earth.





	Three Meetings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chantefable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chantefable/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this!

It was the summer before the war, the first time Hannibal entered the deep temple.

The inside of the temple was cool, a welcome relief from the outside summer heat. There was a great statue of a goddess, tall and stone. There was the shadow of great wings behind her and an omega held in each of her hands.

She was unknown to Hannibal, being not quite Tanith, not quite Persephone, not quite Isis. He thought of other gods he knew, but none matched. She was no goddess of these shores. Was she Roman? If she was, he would leave. He had sworn an oath and Roman gods presumably fell under its purview.

But she was not. He wasn't sure how he knew, but she was older than this. Much, much older, age weighing on him like an endless dark cavern.

He touched the toes of her feet to pay his respects. It felt more like cold mist than stone. He breathed out and his breath came out as white smoke. He watched it spiral up where the ceiling should have been, into the deep night above.

"It cannot be that cold," someone said behind him.

Hannibal turned around. It was a young man. A Roman, by the look of him. His face crumpled when he saw Hannibal was Carthaginian -- he wore the sign of Tanith around his neck, what else could he be?

"What are you doing in Rome?" the Roman asked. Despite his earlier protest, his breath was smoke as well.

"I'm not in Rome," Hannibal said. "Does this look like a Roman temple to you?"

 

"But I entered a Roman temple!" His voice took on a childish whine. His eyes narrowed. "But it was not this temple. What temple did you enter?"

"An Iberian one," Hannibal said. He had no reason to lie and he was curious how the Roman would react.

"Which side of the Ebro?" the Roman asked. It was asked off-handedly, as if it didn't matter, as if Hannibal wouldn't notice what he was asking.

Hannibal almost answered, more out of prickled pride than anything else. "The war is not yet started, if that is the question."

The Roman looked at him with wide, innocent grey eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just curious."

Hannibal laughed. So did the Roman.

* * *

The temple was as cold at it had been the first time. The strange, dark goddess and her statue were still there. In the bare, almost light of unseen torches, her lapis-lazuli eyes shone bright. She was as naked as the first time, as naked as the newly born. As naked as the rotting dead.

Scipio found a dark corner to rest in. His legs were shaking from the ambush still. His father would live. He had too.

Scipio rested his head against the cold stone. He closed his eyes.

"You did not enter through a Roman temple this time," said the Carthaginian. Scipio opened his eyes to find the man standing a few feet away, in full armour, a fresh dress stained with blood on his sword arm. "I saw you at the Ticinus."

"And I you. We have a shrine to Mars at the camp," Scipio added. It was less an offering of friendship than a plea not to fight; his limbs felt like water still. And besides. They had something of an unspoken agreement, the Carthaginian and him. They did not lie to each other when it came to the deep temple. They might not say everything there was to say, but enough; maybe one of them would notice a pattern one day.

"Ours is a shrine to Tanith and Baal." The Carthaginian sat, facing Scipio but still out of range of a sword strike.

"What is this place?" Scipio asked. It was the first time either of them had spoken the question aloud. He was too tired for divine games.

"Should I not ask you this?" the Carthaginian asked. "It is not my people who go around taking the gods of others for our own."

"I do not know this goddess," Scipio said. It was true; he had suspicions, but that was not the same as knowing and Etruscans were well known for lying. "She is not one of ours."

"Good." The Carthaginian nodded.

"Good?" Scipio wondered, for a moment, if he had misinterpreted things. perhaps the other man did not care as much as he himself did about the mystery of this place.

"It is good to know there are things in this world outside the might of Rome. Things within my reach, even."

Scipio thought of Juno Caelestis, with her symbol around the man's neck, and bit his tongue on 'Carthage is outside Rome's might'. Instead he asked, "You fear us so much?"

"I would be a fool not to. Rome makes war like my people make money. Your city is an ever-hungry conquest beast; even gods should fear empires."

"We are a Republic," Scipio said, all the rage of his fervent devotion to the ideal of his city in his voice.

The Carthaginian laughed; it was an ugly laugh, raw and bloody on the edges. Scipio did not join him.

* * *

"I am unsurprised to see you here," Hannibal told Scipio. The temple remained dark and cold, despite him not having entered a temple at all.

Scipio smiled. "I hoped for it."

"The war is over," Hannibal said. He wanted to ask why but he had too much pride to do so; much good his pride had ever done him. When was the last time it had done anything for him? Cannae? The Alps? Not at Zama, that was for sure.

"I know?" Scipio came closer. As he stepped into the light, Hannibal saw he was wearing neither weapons nor armour, unlike himself. "It has been over for years."

"A year and a half is not 'years'," Hannibal said.

"It is closer to the plural than the singular." Scipio came closer still. "The war is over," he said, echoing Hannibal.

Hannibal was silent.

"The war is over," Scipio repeated again, more insistent still.

"You've said. You know this."

"Do you?" He took Hannibal's hands and Hannibal let him, more out of shock than anything else. "The war is over. You need not fear Rome anymore. You need not fear me."

"I never feared _you_ ," Hannibal said. "I feared Rome. There is a difference; I know this now."

"Ereshkigal," Scipio said. He gestured at the statue like an offering of peace. "Her name is Ereshkigal. She was here before Rome."

"She will be here after," Hannibal said, completing the thought. "The war is over." This time, he sounded like he meant it.


End file.
